


The Oath of The Dagger

by Aetherrryn



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Implied Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aetherrryn/pseuds/Aetherrryn
Summary: It was his birthday; that was not something to be so easily ignored.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	The Oath of The Dagger

**Author's Note:**

> Let's pretend I actually posted this on the 20th and not the 19th.
> 
> Happy Birthday Dimitri! Here's a short little piece, tame in romantic content, but cute hopefully.

It was not purposeful, not at all.

She had not intended to overhear, certainly not take interest in this occurrence. It meant nothing to her. It had nothing to do with her whatsoever. 

Alas, she had overheard—caught a snippet of conversation between the chattiest of the Blue Lion house. The pair of girls had been passing by the Eagles classroom, and had by no means attempted to guise their words, nor to soften them as they walked. 

It was mere coincidence that she had been made aware of what should have been an inconsequential matter. Indeed, what should have been—but now that she knew of it, it was rather difficult to put from mind. Something of a nagging feeling lingered as the day drew on. 

By Sothis and the saints—why should she care so? 

What did it matter to her that the morrow was one certain prince’s birthday? It did not—it should not! She should not have cared that his classmates seemed to be planning some sort of surprise for him, should not have cared as they discussed what sorts of gifts to deliver. 

There were far more important things to think of than a topic of such insignificance. That was what she kept telling herself, and yet still her mind strayed, now willfully obstinate in ruminating upon the matter. Throughout the day, she had seen the Lion house scurry to and fro in a rather poorly furtive manner. Even the perpetually angry swordsman that she knew to call the prince names had been caught in the market yard, poring over various weaponry. 

It might not have been so significant a detail if the man had not been looking at lances, a weapon in which he himself was not skilled in. 

Yet, such preparations and care were not limited to the man’s house alone. She had noticed others gloating of the gifts they had found, and she had furthermore realized that many of these people had been blushing young women. Surprisingly, even some of the Deer were readying presents. From what she had, unintentionally, most certainly incidentally, overheard, Claude and Hilda both had prepared gifts of their own. 

A book of tactics and a new pair of gloves respectively. 

So, where did that leave her?

Edelgard sighed and leaned back in her chair, frowning. Her eyes strayed about the familiar surroundings, taking in the simplicity of her dormitory room. 

Her gaze drifted distractedly downwards, towards the wooden surface of the desk whereupon parchments and books were scattered. And of course, the little gleaming dagger that she had kept upon her person for so many years.

Silently, the young woman leaned forward and curled her fingers about the lithe handle, her brows furrowing. She possessed but a vague memory of having received it. Who had given it to her? Someone in her youth, someone that had once been of great significance; someone she had since forgotten.

She skimmed a finger down the length of the blade, sharp by her constant maintenance. Often she wished she could recall with clarity who had bequeathed this beauteous gift upon her, but in vain did she strive to search the depths of her memories. The recollection was lost, given to time and anguish. Much of her youth had deserted her mind. There was little that she did remember. 

But that was beside the point. She had not meant to grow distracted with bleak ruminations. 

No, she had been pondering what to do about a certain blond man. If truly everyone else saw fit to make time for a celebration of a sort, then it would be remiss of her to disregard it. It would make her look unnecessarily callous to ignore him when even their other rival had deemed the matter significant enough to regard. 

Thus she bit her tongue and shook her head, pushing herself out of her chair and returning the knife to the place where it had been laying. Alas, the sun had not set yet. There was still time to venture to the market and perhaps find some sort of gift that she may present to him. 

So without further delay, the young woman hurried out of the dorms, her whitened hair waving behind her. After a long day of grueling classes, there were few out and about, to her fortune. It was rather quiet as she traversed through the hall, only a few people standing and murmuring to each other in hushed tones. 

She paid them no heed, already beginning to ponder what might constitute an acceptable gift. Well, weapons were the obvious choice, of course. Anyone who knew a single thing about the Northern prince was aware of his proclivity towards breaking his training weapons, and his general interest in arms. Perhaps a ceremonial blade, or simply a new lance.

Yet that seemed to her rather uninspired. It required little to no thought, and seemed quite blasé. But if not a weapon, then what? Perhaps a new pin to hold his half-cape in place, or some book that might spark his interest. She did not know though what the prince might find to be entertaining. 

Who would have thought that the simple act of finding a gift would be so tedious? 

Her rumination was thwarted as a voice suddenly disturbed her thoughts. Blinking herself from her stupor, the young woman raised her head and sought the source of the intrusive shout. Within a moment, she saw that the one who had uttered her name was none other than the golden-headed prince himself. 

She could not help the widening of her eyes, almost feeling as though caught doing something illicit. “Oh, Dimitri.” The young woman managed to stifle the stammer that had nearly slipped off her tongue, composing herself. 

His skin seemed to be flushed after what she presumed had been another vigorous session of training, his hair uncharacteristically unkempt. The young man approached her with his usual amiable nature, raising a hand in greeting. “Odd to see you off in a hurry.”

She bit her tongue and shrugged, hoping that he would not—

“Are you heading to the market? I was on my way there as well. May I accompany you?” 

Well…

Looking at his face, so animated and amicable, she could not find it in herself to refuse. So, glumly, the young woman managed a nod, holding back a sigh. It was much easier to be irate with him when in the presence of others—to put up a front of arrogance. When alone with him, however, it was impossible to deny that he possessed an easy charm that made him quite impervious to being disliked. 

Regardless, this complicated matters some. How was she to search for a gift now that the man that was supposed to be the recipient was now joining her? 

Undoubtedly, this posed somewhat of a challenge. But that was not to stop her. Rather, perhaps she should seize the opportunity presented—mayhap in his accompanying her, she would receive a glimpse into the sorts of things that interested him. So it was with newfound confidence that she strode beside him, halfheartedly listening to him speak about various methods of training. 

“Maybe you would join me, one day.” He offered, and she lifted her gaze, pursing her lips. Unlikely. 

“It would be rather foolish of me to allow a potential enemy to witness my areas of weakness.” She responded coolly, narrowing her eyes at him, amused when as she had expected, a flash of flustered concern flickered through his eyes.

The man shook his head, frowning. “Come now, Edelgard; you need not speak so. I would rather not ponder the possibility.” He never could stomach the thought of making battle with her, even during the mock battles he had exhibited no small display of reluctance. 

“It is naïve of you to dismiss the possibility.” She tossed over her shoulder as they crossed into the market, noting the darkening of the sky. She would have to look quickly. 

“I would not say naïve. Optimistic, rather.” He joined her once more, easily matching her pace as she made her way towards the armorer. But after a moment, he stepped away and moved to inspect a lance. She eyed him, pretending examine an axe, keeping keen note of his taste. 

Yet her gaze drifted downwards, to his belt. There was a blade sheathed at his side, but no dagger. A thought struck her mind then, that perhaps he could make use of one. Hers had, after all, become quite important to her. For more reasons than one. 

So the young woman traveled to the other stall, looking through the displays at all the fine weaponry, halting before the daggers. There was certainly no shortage of ornamental knives, beauteous and grandiose, but those seemed too…garish. Something simple, elegant, yet still useable. Just like her own. 

She had just settled upon a rather fine-looking piece when a presence returned to her side. Edelgard startled some, looking up, craning her neck to peer at the man. He seemed inquisitive, his chin caught between his fingers. 

“Daggers?” The young man inquired, raising his brow—and it almost seemed to her that he was pensive, troubled. “Did you not have one already?”

Indeed there seemed a strained edge to his voice, unusual to hear. Edelgard coughed quietly and made her selection, pulling free the one she had chosen. It was about the same height as her own, really, quite similar but for the hilt—red instead of blue. 

She cleared her throat and forced herself to remain composed. Of course he could not know that it was for him. “I—lost mine.” She fibbed, only slightly guilty at having done so. Yet, at her words, the man’s countenance fell. He seemed strangely disheartened. 

“Oh…” The prince cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “That is most unfortunate.” Yes, but why should it matter so to him? Perhaps having realized that she was peering at him oddly, the man stepped away and mustered another affable smile. “Ah, I hope this one serves you well.” 

She remained quiet as he bid her a fair night and made his departure, his blue cloak fluttering behind him. She could not but be slightly disquieted by his sudden dejection. Nevertheless, she had yet to pay for the gift she had selected, and thus without delay, the young woman turned and made to find the shopkeeper. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All day she had witnessed students flock to the beloved prince—be it his own housemates or those from rival houses, and offer him words of congratulation and small gifts.

As she had suspected of him, the Fraldarius heir had in fact been perusing the weaponry stalls for the prince, not for himself. There had been a raucous from morning to evening in the Blue Lions classroom—a true celebration. She had even heard them sing a silly song to commemorate the momentous occasion. 

She had but glanced into the usually tidy room—there were garlands and decorations everywhere, and stacks of gifts and platters of various dishes, including a plate of rather enticing sweet buns that she had once adored. 

Her own gift remained in her dormitory, safe inside a box that she had wrapped with a ribbon. She had meant to give it to him early that morning, but unfortunately, the man had not been given a moment of solitude. There were people surrounding him constantly and it had not been possible for her to approach him privately. 

So she bided her time, waiting and waiting and waiting—until the sun dipped low beneath the horizon, and then panic began to bind her heart. That the day would pass and she would have not have given her own congratulations. 

The young woman paced in her dormitory, glancing every so often at the innocuous box laying atop her desk, wondering how she might get it to him. It was almost completely nightfall now and time was quickly running out. What was she to do? Get over her discontent with presenting her gift before others or simply forget that she had bought it and let it remain in place henceforth?

With a groan, she raked her fingers through her hair and finally decided to get it over with. Perhaps she would simply leave it in his room—if the goddess was merciful, he would not have retired to it yet. Giving herself no opportunity to overthink her decision, she swiped the box off of her desk and marched out of her own room, looking left and right to determine whether she was in danger of being seen. 

There was no one in sight and she resolved to see her task through. With a quiet sigh, she stepped into the hallway and raised her chin, determining to look as unperturbed as possible as she crept down to where the prince’s room was situated. 

The door was closed and there seemed no noise from within. She heaved a breath and carefully began to pull the handle—only to be stopped by the voice of the one she had been seeking.

“Edelgard?” 

She jolted away, her cheeks growing uncharacteristically warm as she twirled on her heel and met the curious blue eyes of a bewildered prince. Quickly, she hid her gift behind her back, clearing her throat. “Dimitri. How coincidental, finding you here.”

“You mean, in front of my room?” He raised a brow, gesturing to the door that she was obstructing. 

She bit her tongue and felt her own brows furrow. She certainly sounded like a fool. “I—,” How was she to tell him that she had wanted no more than to deposit her due, and that she was in fact not skulking about with unsavory purpose as it seemed. 

“Do you want to come in?” His lips curved upwards in what seemed to be amusement and she sighed in relief, glad that his nature was too trusting to even consider suspecting her as doing something nefarious—as she would most certainly have thought. 

The woman stepped out of his way, allowing him to open the door and beckon her inside. Her eyes danced about the room, taking note of the various details that delineated this room from her own. For one, rather than red, blue was the prominent color. 

“Did you need something?” The man gave no care as to her presence as he began to unclasp his cloak, carefully folding the garment. She said nothing for a moment, watching as he began to undo the laces of his gauntlets, and she could not but wonder if she had ever seen his hands before.

Realizing that she had not answered him, the young woman tossed her hair and cleared her throat. “I wanted to—I could not find the opportunity earlier, but…” With a faint sigh, she revealed the little box and presented it to him. 

The man’s eyes widened and he placed the gauntlet he had removed atop his bed, striding towards her. “Edelgard—you really need not have—,” 

“It is not so elaborate.” She raised her chin, clasping her hands together to keep from fidgeting as he took the box. “I merely could not allow the day to pass without having mentioned it as well.” Her heart stuttered, beating a little more rapidly than she would have appreciated as he undid the bindings and pulled open the lid. “Happy birthday, Dimitri.” Her words were quieter, more demure than she would have preferred.

Her eyes strayed as he lifted the dagger from its place, unwilling to watch his face—perhaps fearful of finding disappointment in his eyes. 

Instead, she was greeted with a quiet gasp. “El, you…”

Her own eyes widened at the use of the intimate name of her past, that so far as she knew, only one person had called her by. Someone she could not remember, but someone that was undoubtedly important. Her gaze flicked up before she could stop it, and she found that he was already looking at her. 

“Ah,” As though realizing his wrong, he quickly amended it. “Edelgard, thank you.” He offered her a bright smile and bent at the waist, holding the dagger to his heart. “Then what of yours?” He asked as he straightened, cradling the gift as though it was something infinitely more precious than a simple piece of metal. 

“Oh, I had not truly lost it. I was simply not willing to admit that I was looking for a gift for you.” A flicker of relief danced through his eyes and she found herself wondering once more at that. “I hope this serves you well.”

She moved away, feeling rather flustered—strange in itself, and readied to make her way back to her own room, having done what she had wished to. But before she could, she stopped, turning her head. For some reason, a few words tugged at her tongue. “Perhaps you could use it…to cut a path to your future.” Someone had once told her those words. Mayhap he would find them as comforting as she had. 

As she murmured her goodnight and made her exit, she felt a lightening in her heart, one that was warm and comforting. She could not know why, but it felt…pleasant. She was glad, after all, that she had bestowed upon him a gift.

**Author's Note:**

> Finals are over and I'm on break yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
> 
> Now hopefully I can get myself to write some stuff, keep providing Dimigard content and all that. I really want to write a Cyborg Dimitri, but I'm not that good with scifi, so we'll see. I need to update quiet days as well, oops


End file.
